


Hickory Dickory Dock

by logicsix (r3voluti0ns)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Borrowers Fusion, Fear, Gen, Human!Virgil, borrower!logan, parental lociet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r3voluti0ns/pseuds/logicsix
Summary: Just as he had suspected, the clock was back in function, pendulum swinging ever steadily as the seconds ticked past. What Virgil hadn’t expected was a tiny person to be swinging alongside it.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 37





	Hickory Dickory Dock

As soon as the door clicked shut, Logan sprang into action. Just recently the grandfather clock that served to obscure the entrance to his home finally broke down. The contraption had served as hours of entertainment when he first moved into the old home learning himself the inner workings when Patton could no longer satiate his questions. Fixing it was a must— if only to prevent his host from inspecting too closely himself.

Unbending a paperclip at the base of the clock, the borrower managed to wedge it in then frame of the clock’s door, opening it with a soft click.   
He glanced behind him warily at the noise; the human was upstairs, so there was likely no way he heard. Gazing up at the bar holding the pendulum in place, he sized up the through before tossing his hook aloft. Grinning at his success, he began his ascent, hoping to get a better perspective from a bird’s eye view. His climb was a little slow since he was inexperienced, having only started borrowing without Janus two years ago for his thirteenth birthday. Once he managed to get to the top though, the problem became clear. One of the weights that controlled the chiming mechanism was stuck, effectively halting the clock’s functionality.   
That would be easy enough to fix for the borrower, relatively at least. Struggling to balance on the beam of the clocks interior, he took a moment to look out to the living room he was so accustomed to have towering over him. Briefly, he wondered if this was what is was like to be human. There was no time for such fanciful thinking, as there was a slim time window for the borrower to fix the clock.  
.  
The thread stung his hands as Logan glided down, landing just atop one of the clock weights.   
His fingers ghosted around the obstruction in the mechanism, giving it a solid yank once he was satisfied with the handhold he’d gotten on it.   
The thing is, the method Logan had used to fix the clock was quite effective— So much so that the clock rang out immediately after it was unstuck, the vibrations thundering through the tiny borrower, causing him to teeter then fall from his perch, only just barely gripping the rope in time to hang precariously along side the pendulum that resumed its swinging indifferently to his situation.   
As if things couldn’t get worse, a stirring from the other room and the distinct thumping of footsteps sent a chill through his spine.  
•  
Virgil’s leg tapped against the antique bedframe to the beat of his music, his headphones being his only escape from spending winter break with his grandparents. His parents had gone to the bahamas for the winter, to get a break from the frigid temperatures and their equally cold son by extension.   
That meant he was doomed to be carted all the way to Boston to stay with his grandparents.   
Their house had no wifi, and everything in it was old enough that the whole place was reminiscent of an antique museum.   
Worst of all was the grandfather clock in the living room, always ringing and keeping Virgil up when he was a child.   
His grandmother, however had mentioned that the clock had broken, meaning Virgil could at the very least, get some peace and quiet this year.   
Suddenly, over the sound of his music the gothy teen could hear the telltale chime of the clock,replied to by an involuntary groan.   
Apparently the clock just fixed itself? 

Bad news for Virgil, but he supposed that since his folks were out, the responsibility fell on him to figure out what the hell was going on. Standing up with a grunt, Virgil slung his headphones around his neck and started towards the day room, gawking at the scene that awaited him there. 

Just as he had suspected, the clock was back in function, pendulum swinging ever steadily as the seconds ticked past. What he hadn’t expected was a tiny person to be swinging alongside it.

For a second, there was a deafening silence between the two of them until Virgil reclaimed his voice from the sudden bout of shock. 

“Are you, like, good?” 

Real smooth, V. 

The tiny person–man? just stared at Virgil like he’d asked for his social security number, then suddenly started to desperately shimmy up the thread that suspended him like a rope climb in middle school.   
His panic must’ve made the little guy sloppy, as his attempts at making an ascent only caused him to fall further.   
Not particularly wanting to watch the guy freefall, Virgil leapt up from standing in the doorway to hovering his hand below the tiny, just in time for him to drop into his palm. 

Both of them seemed shocked by the turn of events, the little guy practically flipping on him.

“Release me at once!” he shouted, sounding way too similar to any of the boys that went to Virgil’s school for him not to be weirded out. “Okay, Okay! But did you… fix the clock?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask, since the tiny man’s presence seemed to be the only thing that changed since it was fixed. 

“I did.” The response seemed gradual as if apprehension and pride were fighting over whether or not he should respond. As promised, Virgil sat crisscrossed on the floor, gently depositing the tiny man in front of him. 

“I’m Virgil; You can leave if you want.” He called out, noticing how he seemed to be edging away from him, not that he really blamed him.   
“Logan. And Thank you.” With that, the little guy ran off, disappearing behind the clock. he didn’t even bother to take his little thread, Virgil noticed belatedly, trailing his fingers up to the small hook embedded in the wood. He pulled it out with a sharp tug, turning it over in his palm a few times.   
Well, winter break just got a lot more interesting.


End file.
